Troubadour Tales 5

Troubadour Tales 5

At this the Fru hastened in, and with Elsa’s help, raised the frail old

man and placed him on a bench; and while her mother did what she could

to make him comfortable, Elsa hurried to the fields to send her father

for the village doctor.

 

As it was a long journey to the village it was almost nightfall before

the peasant Sveaborg reached home.

 

Meantime Herr Lönnrot had passed from the swoon into a high fever, and

all day his mind had wandered, and he had talked strangely; sometimes

of his home and his journey, but more often of the lost rune of the

magic harp, which seemed to trouble him sorely.

 

At last the doctor came, and after examining his patient, said that he

was suffering from the effects of a serious cold, and that he must be

kept quiet and well cared for.

 

Then as Herr Lönnrot continued to toss and murmur, the doctor asked

Fru Sveaborg if she knew of aught that troubled him. As the Fru looked

perplexed, Elsa spoke.

 

“The rune, mother! Hark! even now he is speaking of it!”

 

And as they listened, the poor Herr, who had not the least notion of

what he was saying, exclaimed:

 

“The harp! Ah, yes, I must go seek it! the magic harp”—and here he

broke off into low, unintelligible words.

 

At this the doctor looked grave, and said that it was a pity that

anything seemed to be on the patient’s mind, as it might make the fever

harder to overcome. He then measured out some medicines, and took his

leave, after giving Fru Sveaborg directions for caring for the aged

patient.

 

The next day, under the faithful nursing of Elsa’s mother, Herr Lönnrot

seemed better, though still very weak, and when the doctor again saw

him, he said that with continued good care he thought all would go

well, but that the Herr must not think of going on with his journey for

a week, at least. After this visit from the doctor, Elsa’s father, who

had been waiting at home in case he should be needed, told Fru Sveaborg

that he must go to finish the work he was doing at a neighboring farm,

and as it would take him a day or two, he would stop on the way and

send the Fru’s sister to help her care for the sick stranger.

 

When her father was gone, and her mother busy about her work, Elsa drew

out her wheel, and as she sat alone spinning as hard as she could, she

yet found time to think of a great many things. She thought of the

lost rune of the birth of the harp, and of good Herr Lönnrot, lying on

his bed and chafing and worrying with every hour that his journey was

delayed. Then she thought of the peasant Ulricborg, and of what her

father had told of his reported illness.

 

“Ah”, said she to herself, “what if he die before Herr Lönnrot can

travel thither! Then the rune may be lost forever, and dear Herr

Lönnrot can never, never finish the beautiful song-story!” The more she

thought about it, the more Elsa became convinced that something should

be done, and that without delay.

 

She turned over in her mind a great many plans, and presently an idea

occurred to her that made her smile happily; and, jumping up, she ran

out to where Fru Sveaborg was arranging her milk-pans in the sun.

 

“Mother,” said Elsa, “mother, I wish to go to the peasant Ulricborg!”

 

“Why, child,” exclaimed her mother in amazement, “what dost thou wish

with the peasant Ulricborg?”

 

“I wish to learn from him the lost rune, so that Herr Lönnrot can

finish the beautiful song-story! He may die before the Herr can see

him!”

 

“But,” protested her mother, “thou canst not go alone, and thy father

is too busy to go with thee now.”

 

“But, mother,” said Elsa, “’tis no such great journey; thou knowest I

went thither once with father in the sleigh two years ago, and truly it

seemed not far!” Elsa did not realize how swiftly a sleigh will speed

over many, many miles. “I shall meet carts on the way, and I can stop

at the Ringstrom farm to-night.”

 

Now Fru Sveaborg was a simple soul who had never been far beyond her

own home, and as the child pleaded so earnestly to go, at last she

consented, although somewhat against her will.

 

Elsa was overjoyed, and at once made her little preparations to start.

She got a small basket of birch bark and in it her mother placed some

black bread and cheese, a few herrings and a bottle of milk. Then

putting on her thick woolen cloak and hood, and taking her kantele in

one hand and the basket in the other, off she started.

 

Fru Sveaborg bade her good by. “Be careful, child!” she said; “keep to

the highroad, and be sure to stay to-night at the Ringstrom farm!”

 

“Good by, mother!” Elsa called back, “and do not fear for me; I know

the way!”

 

With this she tripped down the lane of birch trees and turned into the

road to the east. By and by she was overtaken by a little Finland pony

trundling along a two-wheeled cart. As the driver of the cart happened

to be a young boy she knew, she was glad to climb in beside him.

They rode thus for a number of miles till they reached a cross-road

where Elsa’s friend told her he must turn off; so she jumped out, and

thanking him for her ride, bade him good by and trudged on along the

highway.

 

Presently she began to feel hungry, for it was long past noon, and

looking about, she saw a pretty tuft of green moss under a tall birch

tree; and sitting down, she opened her basket and ate some of the

contents. She thought she would rest a little while before going on, so

she wrapped her cloak close about her and leaned back against the birch

tree,—till—by and by—her eyes began to blink and blink, and before

she knew it the little girl was sound asleep.

 

She did not know how long she slept, but at length, just in the midst

of a beautiful dream about magic fishes and harps and wizards, she gave

a shiver and waked up.

 

She rubbed her eyes for a minute, and involuntarily drew her cloak

closer, for it had grown chilly.

 

At first, as Elsa gazed around, she thought she must still be asleep

and dreaming of cloudland! But presently she realized that she was not

in the clouds, but in the midst of a dense fog, such as often comes

up in Finland without warning, and covers up the fields and woods as

completely as any cloud might do.

 

Now, being a Finnish child, Elsa’s first thought was of the hobgoblins

and prankish fairies of the fog who, as every Finlander knows, float

about in their mantles of mist seeking to do mischief to unwary

travelers.

 

So Elsa at once began to sing in a high, clear voice a little

charm-song; not the one she had sung in the farm house to Herr Lönnrot,

but a song intended especially to ward off the wicked fairies of the

fog. It began like this:

 

Fogs of Finland,

Floating inland,

From the fairy-haunted sea,

Have a care now,

See ye bear now

No unfriendly folk to me!

 

As Elsa sang she cautiously stepped along, she knew not where; till,

faintly through the thick shrouding mist, there came the soft tinkle,

tinkle of a little bell. Listening, she knew at once that it must be

fastened to the collar of some cow, for such bells in Finland are very

sweet-toned and clear.

 

Sure enough, in a little while she heard the trampling of hoofs, and

the whole herd, drawn by the sound of her voice, was thronging about

her.

 

But Elsa was used to the herds on her father’s farm, and was really

glad to feel the warm breath of the gentle little Finnish cows. As the

leader came close to her she put up her hand and patted its nose; then

slipping her fingers through the narrow leathern strap from which the

bell hung, she walked along beside the cow.

 

This proved to be the very best thing she could have done; for the herd

was going home, and the cows seemed to know their way instinctively,

even in spite of the white fog.

 

They walked thus a long way, till after a while the fog began to lift

somewhat; and though it was growing dusk Elsa could distinguish the

outline of a comfortable-looking farmhouse. It was not the Ringstrom

farm, where she had expected to pass the night, but a strange place

that she had never before seen. The usual lane of birch trees led up to

the house, and behind it was a long, low barn, whither the cows seemed

to be directing their way.

 

As she walked along beside them she was thinking of what she had best

do, and she found herself very much perplexed. In truth she had set

out upon a very difficult errand for a little girl, and had good Fru

Sveaborg had the least idea of the distance or possible dangers of the

journey she never would have given her consent; while had Elsa’s father

been at home,—but then it is useless thinking things might have been

managed differently. Meanwhile there was Elsa trudging along in the

midst of the herd, wondering much who were the dwellers at the farm,

and, on the whole, not a little frightened.

 

By this time she had a pretty definite idea that she had started on a

rather reckless undertaking, and she fancied that perhaps the people at

the farm might think so too, and would not allow her to go farther; and

as she was determined at any risk to reach the peasant Ulricborg and

save the rune, she decided at last that she would not go to the house.

 

So she kept with the herd, and when the cows reached the door of

the great barn, she slipped in between them, unseen in the fog and

gathering dusk; for though the sun would not quite disappear, it hung